Dream of Me/Believe in Me

correspondence. He reads, by the by.”
    “Really?” That was surprising since few lords could claim such a skill. Her half-brother mocked the very idea of it, saying it was the province of eunuch priests. She smiled at the thought of him trying to fit Hawk into that category.
    Her smile wobbled a little as she realized she would shortly see her intended husband. It was almost the supper hour. Tantalizing smells wafted from the kitchens and people were beginning to move into the great hall on the first floor of the tower.
    “Come along,” Raven said. Seeing her young mistress's hesitation, she added, “A few berries won't hold you. You need more than that.”
    Perhaps so, yet did she feel so swamped by sudden nervousness that she doubted she could eat a morsel. Had it not been for the reassurance of Raven on one side of her and Thorgold on the other, Krysta truly wondered if she would have managed to set foot in the hall of the Hawk.

Chapter TWO

    T HERE WAS THE GIRL A GAIN, JUST NOW ENTERING the hall with her two od d companions. She seemed unsettled, although Hawk couldn't imagine why. He surveyed her over the rim of his drinking cup while listening with one ear to the ever-diligent Edvard.
    “Although the rains have not been as generous as we would wish, lord, yet the crops do well thanks to the channels you ordered dug three seasons ago. The harvest will be less than last year when rainfall was greater, but we should have ample grain for the stores.”
    “Ample …” Hawk murmured, still watching the girl. She held herself stiffly and darted an anxious look here and there, yet for all that she moved gracefully. Her body was slim, well-formed, with lithe strength that suggested an active life. But then he supposed it would be for she was a servant, undoubtedly accustomed to physical labors, although her skin was very smooth, giving no sign of excessive exposure to the sun….
    “Salt supplies are sufficient for our needs, yet we might be advised to lay in a larger quantity should therebe an opportunity to do so at a reasonable price. As you know, due to the unsettled situation along the coasts, supply lines are subject to sudden interruption with the result that—”
    Her hair was a deep black without shine. It was the only unattractive part of her.
    Hawk's hand jerked, sloshing ale over the rim of the cup. What was he thinking? He had no business finding the servant of his intended wife attractive or unattractive, or for that matter noticing anything about her at all. Only a man born for folly would make so elemental a mistake, and Hawk was very far from that. As reluctant a bridegroom as he might he, he wanted the marriage for the peace it would bring, and he fully intended for that peace to extend into his own household. His wife's servant! God's breath, he must be in dire need of a woman if he was that susceptible to green eyes and a winsome glance. Yet it wasn't all that long since he had been at Alfred's court and eased himself with a pleasant widow who knew better than to expect more of him than a sweet tumble or two…. All right, more than two, but then he was a man in his prime who had deliberately turned away from the monkish life because he knew he would stumble over the obstacle of celibacy. Maybe when he was older … much, much older. Or better yet, dead.
    His bride would arrive, the bride his brother-in-law swore—absolutely swore—was “not unappealing,” whatever the hell that meant. Damn Wolf for refusing to say more. Hawk would do his duty by her, and if she proved cold, he would take a mistress. But
not
his wife's servant. The very thought appalled him.
    “… Charcoal could be a problem if you wish the smiths to increase production. While our sources for iron remain good, we might consider … Lord—?” Aware of his master's preoccupation, Edvard broke off.
    Several moments passed before Hawk noticed the silence.He waved a hand, trying to cover his lapse. “Enough, Edvard, I am in awe of your diligence. But now is the time to relax, enjoy your supper, perhaps even talk of something other than production tallies.” Around them, the lieutenants who were privileged to share the high table with their lord laughed. They had a sensible appreciation of the steward, who was both a fair man and one rising in power, but they didn't mind seeing him mildly embarrassed.
    Neither, it seemed, did Edvard, whose momentary surprise gave way quickly to a grin. Tucking the slate upon which he